CACTUS RANCHING IN ARIZONA--_continued_
The Cowboy--Accoutrements and Weapons--Desert Plants--Politics and
Perjury--Mavericks--Mormons--Bog Riding.
The "rustling" of cattle was very common in Arizona in these days. By
"rustling" is not meant the petty burning out of a brand, or stealing of
calves or odd beef cattle. It was carried on on the grand scale. Bands
of rustlers operated together in large bodies. Between our range and the
old Mexican border extended the Apache Reservation, a very large tract
of exceedingly rough country, without roads of any description, the only
signs of human presence being an occasional Indian trail and abandoned
wickyups. Beyond the Reservation lay certain mining towns and camps,
such as Clifton, Camp Thomas, Tombstone, and others; and then the
Mexican frontier.
The rustlers' business was to steal cattle, butcher them in the
mountains, and sell the beef to the mining towns; or drive them over
into Old Mexico for disposal, and then again drive Mexican cattle or
horses back into Arizona. Some of these gangs were very powerful and
terrorized the whole country, so much so that decent citizens were
afraid "to give them away."
Our cattle ranged well into the mountains, and up to a certain period we
had no occasion to think that any "dirty" work was going on; but at last
we "tumbled" to the fact that a gang was operating on our range. Word
was brought us that a bunch of some 200 cattle had been "pulled"
(Scotch, lifted). I was off the ranch at the time, but one of my
partners at once started on the trail with three of the men. After some
days very hard riding they caught up on the thieves at early dawn, in
fact when still too dark to see very well. Shooting began at once. None
of our men were hurt. Two of the enemy were badly wounded, but managed
in the darkness to scramble off into the rocks, or were carried off by
their companions. Our party captured their saddle horses and camp
outfit, but did not feel themselves strong enough to continue the chase
in such a country. The cattle were found close to the camp, but so
footsore that it was impossible to move them homewards. They then
returned to the ranch, and we at once organized a strong force of some
seventeen men, well mounted and abundantly supplied with ammunition,
etc. Again taking the trail we met the cattle on their way home, and
gave them a push for a mile or so; and thinking them safe enough we
prepared to continue south.
On arriving at the scene of last week's fight we noticed that the big
pine trees under which the rustlers camped had gun-rests notched in the
sides of them, not newly made, but showing that they had been cut a long
while ago, probably in anticipation of just what had happened.
That day in camp, a horseman, the most innocent-looking of individuals,
appeared, took dinner with us, and gave some plausible reason for his
presence in that out-of-the-way place. It is strictly against cowboy
etiquette to question a guest as to his personality, his movements or
his occupation. We, however, felt very suspicious, especially as after
he had gone we stumbled on to a coffee-pot and frying-pan, still warm,
which had evidently been thrown into the bushes in great haste. In fact,
this confirmed our suspicions that our visitor was one of the gang, and
we thereafter stood careful guard round our horses every night. The
cattle we decided to leave alone to take their chances of getting home,
thinking the rustlers would not have the "gall", in face of our near
presence, to again try to get off with them; but they did! These cattle
never reached the ranch. Had they been left alone their wonderful homing
instinct would certainly have got them there just as quick as they
could travel. However, we did not realize the fact of the second raid
till on our return no sign of these cattle could be found. So we
continued south, passing through the roughest country I ever set eyes
on, the vegetation in some places being of the most extraordinary
nature, cacti of all kinds forming so thick a jungle that one could
hardly dismount. Such enormous and freakish-looking growths of this
class of plant few can have ever looked on before. The prickly pear
"nopal" was the most common, and bore delicious, juicy and refreshing
fruit. Indeed, being out of water and short of "chuck," we were glad to
accept Nature's offering, but at a dreadful cost, for in a little while
our mouths and tongues were a mass of tiny, almost invisible spines,
which the most careful manipulation of the fruit could not prevent. But
the most astonishing of these growths was the pitahaya (correct name
saguarro), or gigantic columnar cactus, growing to a height of thirty to
fifty feet, bearing the fruit on their crowns; a favourite fruit of the
Pima Indians, though by what means they pluck it it would be interesting
to know. Besides an infinite variety of others of the cactus family,
there were yuccas, agaves and larreas; the fouquiera and koberlinia,
long and thorny leafless rods; artemisias and the algarrobbas or
mesquite bean-trees, another principal food of the Indians and valuable
for cattle and horses. The yucca when in full bloom, its gigantic
panicles bearing a profusion of large white bells, is one of Nature's
most enchanting sights. Besides all these were massive biznagas, cholas,
bear-grass or palmilla, and the mescal, supplying the principal
vegetable food of the Apaches. Never in Texas, Arizona, or even Old
Mexico, have I seen such a combination of varieties of such plants
growing in such profusion and perfection; but being no botanist, and
quite incompetent to give a proper appreciation of these wonders, we
will return to the trail.
At one place, hidden in a cañon, we ran on to a stone-built and
fortified butchering establishment, but without sign of life around.
Continuing, we finally came to Clifton, the copper-mining town, then
perhaps the "hardest" town in Arizona. The townspeople appeared pleased
to see us. Martial law was prevailing, and they seemed to think we were
a posse deputized to assist in restoring order. Anyway, the sheriff
informed us that nearly thirty men had left the town that day for their
camp, a fortified position some ten or fifteen miles away. They were all
rustlers, and somehow or other had heard of our coming. Mr Sheriff was
also kind enough to advise us that we were not nearly strong enough to
tackle them; so adopting his advice, after securing supplies, we rode
off, and by travelling all night and working round avoided the enemy's
"position." Next day we unexpectedly ran on to a large bunch of our own
cattle quietly grazing on the hillside. We rounded them up, but our
brands were so completely burned out and effaced that, when we put them
in the corral at Camp Thomas and claimed ownership, the sheriff refused
to acknowledge it, and we had to draw his attention to a small jaw brand
lately adopted by us but unnoticed by the thieves, and therefore not
"monkeyed" with. This was proof enough, and so our long and tedious trip
was to some extent compensated for. The particular rustlers we were
after we could hear nothing of, except one man, who was lying wounded at
a certain establishment, but who was carefully removed before we got to
the place.
On returning home there were only two possible passes through the
mountains. It was lucky we took the one, as the other, we afterwards
learned, had been put into a state of defence and manned by the outlaws,
who in such a place could have shot us all down without danger to
themselves.
This short narrative will give some sort of idea of the state of the
country at that period. Thereafter it became necessary that the cattle
in the mountains should be more carefully guarded and looked after, and
the duty fell to me to "cut sign." By "cutting sign" is meant, in this
instance, the riding round and outside of all our cattle, pushing back
any that had strayed too far, and carefully looking out for fresh sign
(footprints) of cattle or horses leading beyond our range limits. Such
sign was always suspicious, and the trail must be followed till the
stock was found and accounted for. If horse tracks accompanied the
cattle it would be a dead sure proof that something was wrong. I
continued this work for a long time, but nothing suspicious occurred. At
last, one day when searching the open country with my field-glasses, I
was gratified and at the same time alarmed to see three or four men
driving a considerable herd of cattle in the direction, and on exactly
the same trail as before taken by the rustlers. Convinced that all was
not right, and quite realizing that there was the prospect of serious
trouble for myself, I lit out for them, keeping as well under cover as
possible, till, on mounting a small tree-covered knoll, I found myself
directly overlooking their camp. There were the cattle, from four to
five hundred, and there the men, preparing their mid-day meal, four of
them in all, and all strangers to me. It was necessary at all costs to
know who they were, so I was obliged to disclose myself by going into
their camp. The number of saddle horses they had with them led me to
think that they were not real professional cattle thieves. Had they
been indeed rustlers it would have been a risky thing to do, as they
would have had to dispose of me in some way or other. By my horse brand
they at once knew what "outfit" I belonged to. Their brands, however,
were strange to me. They asked me to eat, of course; and I soon found
out that their party was headed by one Pete----, whose reputation I had
often heard of as being of the worst. He said he had been grazing these
cattle in some outlying park, and was now taking them home to his
ranches somewhere in New Mexico. That was all right; but since he had
passed through part of our range it was necessary to inspect the herd.
This he resisted by every means he could think of, asserting that they
were a "clean" bunch, with no "strays," and that he was in a great hurry
to push on. I insisted, however, on riding through them, when, not much
to my surprise, I found about twenty large unbranded calves, apparently
without their "mammies." On asking Pete for an explanation: "Oh," he
said, "the mammies were shore in the herd" and he "warn't no cow thief,"
but on my persisting he finally exclaimed, "Well, take your damned
_caves_ and let's get on," or some such words; so I started in and cut
out nearly twenty big unbranded calves, which certainly did not have
their mothers with them; which, therefore, were clearly not his
property; were probably ours, but whether they were or not did not
matter to me. Pete and his men pulled out home, but I caught and branded
over half of these calves before turning them loose, and it is probable
we got the rest of them at the next round-up. When a man is
single-handed and has to make his fire up as well as catch and tie down
the calves he has his hands pretty full. In this case I used only one
fire and so had to drag the calves up close to it; every bit of tie rope
in my pocket, thongs cut off the saddle, even my pocket-handkerchief,
were all brought into service; as at one time there were as many as four
calves tied down at once. I had only the one little branding-iron, a
thin bent iron rod, generally carried tied to the saddle alongside the
carbine. The branding-iron must be, if not quite red-hot, very nearly
so. Then the calf has to be ear-marked and altered.
When the mothers are near by the bellowing of the young ones as the hot
iron burns into the hide makes them wild with fear and anxiety, and the
motherly instinct to charge is strained to the utmost, though they
seldom dare to do it. The calves themselves, if big and stout enough,
will often charge you on being released, and perhaps knock you over with
a painfully hard punch.
This was merely an adventure which lent some excitement and interest to
the regular work. Happily no more serious raid on our cattle occurred
in that direction, but one never knew when a little "pulling" might take
place and so had to be constantly on the alert.
About this time certain ill-disposed individuals tried "to get their
work in on us" by asserting land frauds on our part. They tried every
possible way to give us "dirt," that is, to put us to trouble and
expense, and even send us to the pen if they could. They succeeded in
having me indicted for perjury by the Grand Jury at Prescott, the then
capital of Arizona. It cost us some money, but no incriminating evidence
was forthcoming and the trial was a farce. The trial jury consisted of
miners, cattlemen, saloon-keepers and others, and by mixing freely with
them, standing drinks, etc., we managed to "correct" any bad feeling
there might have been against us. Certainly these jurymen might have
made trouble for me, but they did not. This notwithstanding that my
friend, a special land agent sent out from Washington and principal
witness against me, swore that I had assaulted him at a lonely place
(and I well remember the occasion), and that he felt his life in such
danger that he had to travel with a guard, etc. This came from politics.
Having described summer life and occupations, and before going to winter
camp, something must be said about our headquarters ranch, situated
some twenty miles off. Here were the grain-house, the hay stacks, wagon
sheds, corrals, the kitchen, general messroom, the bunk house and
private rooms for ourselves. There was a constant succession of
visitors. Nearly every day some stranger or neighbour "happened" in for
a meal. Everyone was welcome, or at least got free board and lodging and
horse feed. There being a paid cook made things different.
But it was hot down here in summer-time, hot and dry and hardly
attractive. The lower part of the range was much of it sandy country.
With the temperature at 110° in the shade the sand would get so hot as
to be almost painful to walk on, certainly disagreeable to sit on. And
when one wanted to rest the only shade you could find would be in the
shadow of your horse, which at noon meant your sitting right under him;
and your saddle, on remounting, would be so hot as to be really very
uncomfortable. Between round-ups there was not much work to do. Before
round-up a general shoeing of the horses had to be gone through. I shod
my own, except in cases of young ones undergoing the operation for the
first time, when assistance was needed. Except poker every night we had
few amusements. It was almost a daily programme, however, to get our
carbines and six-shooters out and practise at targets, firing away box
after box of ammunition. No wonder we were pretty expert shots, but
indeed it needs much practice to become so.
It should be said that amongst our visitors there were, no doubt, many
angels whom we entertained unawares; but also, and no doubt of this,
many blackguards and desperadoes, "toughs" and horse-thieves.
An old English sailor, who had farmed a little in the mountains, was on
one occasion left alone at our headquarters to take charge of it during
our absence on the work. Two men came along and demanded something which
the old man would not give and they deliberately shot him dead. We
caught the miscreants, but could not convict them, their plea being
self-defence. They really should have been hung without trial.
Lynchings of cattle and horse thieves and other criminals were not then
uncommon. I have twice come on corpses swinging in the wind, hung from
trees or telegraph posts. But the most distressing sight witnessed was
in Denver's fair city when a man, still alive, was dragged to death all
through the streets by a rope round his neck, followed by a howling mob!
By the way, a strange couple once surprised me at my mountain camp,
viz., two individuals dressed much alike, both wearing the hair in a
long pigtail, both dressed in leather "chaps," high-heeled boots,
woollen shirts, big felt hats, rifles and six-shooters, and both as
"hard"-looking as they ever make them. One was a man, the other a woman!
They volunteered to me nothing of their business, but I watched the
horses a little closer. And I may as well here give another little
incident that occurred in my summer camp.
A United States cavalry officer appeared one day at my door and demanded
that I at once move the cattle off the Reservation. This was a sudden
and rather big order. I told him that I was alone and could not possibly
do it at once, or for several days. "Oh," he said, he "would help me,"
he having some forty nigger troopers with him. "All right," I said, and
took the men along with me, got back behind the cattle, spread these
novel cowboys out and began to drive, when such a shouting and shooting
of guns took place as never was heard before in these parts. We drove
the cattle, really only a thousand head or so, back to the supposed
Reservation border, quite unmarked and vague, and so left them, only to
wander back again at their leisure to where they had been. The officer
made all kinds of threats that he would turn the Indians loose on them,
but nothing more was then done.
At my winter camp, some thirty-five miles below headquarters, there was
a good three-roomed frame house, a corral, etc., and the Little Colorado
River flowed past near by. It was to these lower parts of the range that
most of our cattle drifted in winter time. Two or three other large
cattle-ranches marched with us there.
A small Mormon settlement was not far off. These Mormons were a most
venturesome people and daring settlers. Certainly they are the most
successful colonists and a very happy people. Living in close community,
having little or no money and very little live stock to tempt Providence
(rustlers), theirs is a peaceable, though possibly dull, existence. They
had frequent dances, but we Gentiles were not admitted to them.[1]
[Footnote 1: _See_ Appendix, Note 1.]
In winter one lives better than in the hot weather, table supplies being
more varied. In summer, excepting during the round-ups, we never had
butcher meat, and in my camp butter, eggs and milk were not known; but
in winter I always had lots of good beef, potatoes, butter and some eggs
from the Mormons, but still no milk. This was varied, too, by wild duck,
teal and snipe shot along the river bottom.
Talking of snipe, it is very wonderful how a wounded bird will carefully
dress and apply down and feathers to the injury, and even apply splints
and ligatures to a broken limb.
My principal duties at this season consisted in riding the range on the
lookout for unbranded calves, many calves always being missed on the
round-up. This was really rather good sport. Such calves are generally
big, strong, fat, and run like jack-rabbits, and it takes a fast and
keen pony to catch them. Occasionally you would be lucky enough to find
a maverick, a calf or a yearling so old as to have left its mother and
be still running loose without a brand and therefore without an owner.
It was particular satisfaction to get one's rope, and therefore one's
brand, on to such a rover, though it might really not be the progeny of
your own cattle at all. It was no easy job either for one man alone to
catch and brand such a big and wild creature, especially if among the
brush and cedar trees. A certain stimulant to your work was the fact
that you were not the only one out on a maverick hunt. There were
others, such as your neighbours, or even independent gentlemen, expert
with the rope and branding-iron, who never bought a cow critter in their
lives, but started their herds by thus stealing all the calves they
could lay hands on. A small crooked iron rod, an iron ring, or even an
old horseshoe, did duty as branding-iron on these occasions. The ring
was favoured by the latter class of men, as it could be carried in the
pocket and not excite suspicion. Of course we branded, marked and
altered these calves wherever we found them. "Hair branding" was a
method resorted to by dishonest cowboys; by burning the hair alone, and
not the hide, they would apparently brand the calf with its rightful
owner's brand; but later, when the calf had grown bigger and left its
mother, they would slap on their own brand with comparative safety. One
had to be constantly on the lookout for such tricks.
The Mexicans, too, were fond of butchering a beef now and then, so they
too required watching; but my busiest time came with early spring, when
the cattle were in a poor and weak condition. The river-bed, too, was
then in its boggiest state. Cattle went in to drink, stuck, and could
not get out again, and thus some seasons we lost enormous numbers of
them. Therefore I "rode bog" every day up and down the river. When I
found an animal in the mud I had to rope it by the horns or feet and
drag it by main force to solid ground. A stout, well-trained horse was
needed. It was hard, dirty work and exasperating, as many of those you
pulled out never got up again, and if they did would invariably charge
you. No special tackle was used; you remain in the saddle, wrap the rope
round the horn and dig the spurs in. Of course, on your own beat, you
dragged out all you could, no matter of what brand; but when, as often
happened, you failed to get them out, and they belonged to someone else,
you were not allowed to shoot them; so that there the poor creatures lay
for days, and perhaps even weeks, dying a lingering, but I am glad to
think and believe not a painful, death. What an awful death for a
reasoning, conscious man. Dumb animals, like cattle, happily seem to
anticipate and hope for nothing one way or another. Once I found a mare
in the river in such a position under a steep bank that nothing could be
done for her. Her young colt was on the bank waiting and wondering. Very
regretfully I had to leave them and carefully avoided passing that way
for some days to come till the tragedy had terminated. The Little
Colorado River, and afterwards the Pecos River in New Mexico, I have
often seen so thick with dead and dying cattle that a man might walk up
and down the river on the bodies of these unfortunate creatures. The
stench would become horrible, till the spring flood came to sweep the
carcasses to the sea or covered them up with deposit.
Quicksand is much more holding than mere river mud. If only the tip of
the tail or one single foot of the animal is covered by the stuff, then
even two stout horses will not pull it out. The Pecos River is
particularly dangerous on account of its quicksandy nature, and it was
my custom, when having to cross the mess wagon, to send across the
ramuda of two or three hundred saddle horses to tramp the river-bed
solid beforehand. On one occasion when crossing quite a small stream my
two driving ponies went down to their hocks, so that I had to cut the
traces and belabour them hard to get them out. Had they not got out at
once they never would have done so. My ambulance remained in the
river-bed all night and till a Mexican with a bull-team luckily came
along next day.
At the Meadows, my winter camp, I had to fill a contract of two or three
fat steers for the town butcher every week. With a man to help me we had
to go far afield and scour the range to get suitable animals, the best
and fattest beeves being always the furthest out. After corralling,
which might mean a tremendous amount of hard galloping and repeated
failures, the most difficult part of the job was the actual killing,
which I accomplished by shooting them with a six-shooter, not a carbine.
Only when a big steer has its head down to charge can you plant a bullet
in exactly the right spot, a very small one, too, on the forehead, when
he will drop like a stone. It was very pretty practice, but risky, as to
get them to charge you must be afoot and inside the corral. The butcher
was rather astonished when I first accomplished this trick, but it
saved time and a lot of trouble. Such were my winter duties.
Sometimes neighbours would look in, and the weekly mail and home papers
helped to pass the time. I read a great deal, and so the solitariness of
the position was not so trying as one might suppose. Indeed, books were
more to me than the neighbours' society.
"Incidents" occurred, of course, but I will only mention one. In winter
I only kept up two saddle horses, picked ponies, favourites and almost
friends. They were fed with grain night and morning, and, to save hay,
were allowed to graze out at night. They regularly returned at early
morning for their feed, so I never had to go after them. One morning,
however, they did not appear. It was quite unaccountable to me and very
awkward, as it left me afoot and unable to do anything. Not till about
10 a.m. did they come galloping in, greatly excited, their tails in the
air, puffing and snorting. It did not look quite right. Someone had been
chasing them. At noon, while preparing early dinner, a man, a stranger,
rode up to the house, and of course was invited to eat. He was very
reticent, in fact would hardly speak at all, and gave no hint as to who
he was or anything about himself. While eating there was suddenly a
rapid succession of rifle-shots heard outside. We both rushed to the
door and saw a man riding for life straight to the house, with half a
dozen others shooting at him from horseback. He was not touched, only
his horse being killed at the door. The new-comer and my strange guest
at once showed that they were very intimate indeed, so that I quickly
and easily put two and two together. The following party in the meantime
had stopped and spread out, taking positions behind the low hills and
completely commanding the house. Only their big hats showed and I could
not make out whether they were Mexicans or white men. My two guests
would tell me nothing, except to assert that they knew nothing of their
followers, or why they began shooting. Realizing that these two had me
at their mercy, that they could make me do chores for them, fetch water,
cook, feed and attend to the horses till nightfall, when with my own two
fresh mounts they might possibly make a bolt for it, I got a bit
anxious, and determined to find out who the larger party were. So
walking out and waving my hat I caught their attention and, on advancing
further, one of the party came out and met me. They were neighbouring
cattlemen, and explained that the two men in my house were rustlers, and
they were determined to take them dead or alive. They asked me to join
their party as they were going to "shoot up" the house if necessary. To
this I would not consent and went back. After a deal of talk and
persuasion the two men finally agreed to give me their guns, preliminary
to meeting two of the other party, who were also asked to approach
unarmed. They met, much to my relief, and when, somehow or other, the
two men allowed themselves to be surrounded by the rest they saw the
game was up and surrendered. Then the funny thing happened and the one
reason for the telling of this story. They all came down to the house,
had dinner together, chatted and cracked jokes, and not a word was said
about the immediate trouble. They were all "punchers," had worked
together, knew each other's affairs, etc., etc. The one party was about
to send the other to the penitentiary, or perhaps the gallows; but you
would have thought it was only a pleasant gathering of long-separated
friends. The two rustlers were lodged in the county jail, quickly broke
out, and soon afterwards died in their "boots," one at the hands of the
sheriff.
For tracking jail-breakers Indians, Navajoes or Apaches were sometimes
employed, and the marvellous skill they showed was simply astonishing
and inexplicable; all done by reading the "sign" left by the escaping
party, but "sign" often quite unnoticeable to the white man. Indeed, an
Indian would follow a trail by sign much as a hound will do by scent.
Talking of scent, the homing instinct of horses and cattle is very
wonderful and mysterious; but it is not generally known that a horse has
also great power of scent. A horse will follow its mate (nearly all
horses have their chums) many miles merely by sense of smell, as my long
experience of them has amply proved to me. On one occasion I for some
reason displaced the near horse of my driving team and hitched up
another. After driving a distance of fifteen miles and returning
homewards on the same road, soon in the distance could be seen said near
horse busy with nose on the ground picking up the trail, and so absorbed
in it that even when we got up quite close he did not notice us. When he
did recognize his chum and companion his evident satisfaction was
affecting.